What I write after Joe and Henry go to bed

“Loves grows where my Rosemary goes.”

May 30, 2010 | Clearwater Beach, Florida

On Sunday, my beautiful sister-in-law Rosemary married her beau, Adam at the Sandpearl Resort on Clearwater Beach. I was a bridesmaid, so this little photo essay is missing many pieces. I apologize. Still, some of you asked for some behind-the-scenes shots, so here are a few. I think you’ll agree with me when I say Rosey is one breathtaking bride, Adam is one happy fella and the Sandpearl is one swank venue. Enjoy!

My beaming in-laws and their beaming daughter.

It takes a village to raise a wedding dress.

Jillian (on her knees there) is a bridesmaid extraordinaire. She can fix a bustle in .08 seconds. If this had been a Nascar race and Rosey had been a driver, Jillian would have led the pit crew.

Love the beading on her dress. LOVE IT.

You know how in the movies when a bride walks down the stairs and her family and friends cry because they’ve never seen her look so stunning? Rosey was one of those brides.

Proud mama.

Proud papa.

The ambiance of the wedding in two words: tropical storybook.

Rosey and Adam stayed in their own private suite on the beach. And this was no beach bungalow. It was a two-story house with full-length windows and electric shades.

The best moment of the night came when my in-laws requested the song Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse. It was totally unexpected and those of us on the dance floor just naturally joined hands and formed a giant circle around Rosey, as Adam twirled her around. I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it. I’ve never seen a bride look so adorable and blissful.

Grandpa Ra basks in the glory of air conditioning.

The flight of the bridesmaids.

The unique slanted beading on this dress had a subtle princess quality. It glimmered in the sun.

Heidi I found your blog! You need to write that book I love how you write. It kept me in a trance. Thanks so much for the wedding pictures of Rosey. Wow, how beautiful. The Mom of the bride looked pretty hot too. Thanks so much. I was so sorry I couldn’t be there. You are now an official actress.

Oddities

Reading material

Me.

Joe.

Henry.

Chip.

Buzzy.

Why Lance?

This blog is named after my old friend Sarah's manifestation of a dreamy Wyoming cowboy named Lance, because the word blog sounds like something that comes out of a person's nose.

About me

I'm a journalist who spends my Mondays through Fridays writing other people's stories, a chronic procrastinator who needs structure. I once quit my job to write a book and like most writers, I made up excuses why I couldn't keep at it.

My boyfriendfiancé husband Joe likes to sleep in late on the weekends, but since we have a kid now that happens less than he'd like.

Before Henry and Chip, I used to spend my mornings browsing celebrity tabloid websites while our dog snored under the covers. Now I hide my computer in spots my feral children can't reach because everything I own is now broken, stained or peed on.

I created Lance in an attempt to better spend my free time. I thought it might jump start a second attempt at writing a novel.

It hasn't. And my free time is gone.

But I'm still here writing.

I'm 262728293031 323334 35 and I've yet to get caught up in something else, which is kind of a big deal for a chronic procrastinator.